Lingerie for the Band
by ellebree
Summary: A true story about my trip to Victoria's Secret with my best friend Megan. Based around my want to get into the members of Kings of Leon's pants. Some language and promiscuity. HUMOR me and read it.


**Ok, this is a short story I wrote that is not so much based on true events as much as it is pretty much exactly what happened when I went to the mall today. Even the words are quite verbatim. It's hilarious if I do say so myself. Or maybe you had to be there. I don't know. Anyway, here it is…**

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My best friend, Megan and I were at the mall finding new outfits for the biggest event of our lives. Or at least mine. Finally, the greatest band in existence, Kings of Leon, was coming less than an hour away from our town and I got us Floor VIP tickets.

Even though the show was more than a month away, I dragged Megan to the mall to help me find the perfect outfit. And by "outfit," I mean lingerie.

Currently, I was in a dressing room in Victoria's Secret, holding several dozen "outfits" hostage.

Megan, who was standing outside to judge, was asking me about how deep-seeded my obsession with the band was.

"You don't get it," I said, opening the dressing room door and coming out. "I would do _anything_ they asked me to."

"Ok," she said, raising her eyebrows apprehensively. "So let's say the lead singer guy—"

"—His name is Caleb," I snapped.

"Right. Let's say Caleb asked you to jump off a bridge…?"

"Why would Caleb want me to jump off a bridge?" I asked.

"I don't know..." she whined. "It turns him on."

"Hell. Yes. When and where?"

"That's stupid. You're stupid."

"No…that's smart," I said. I looked at myself in the mirror and twisted around to see the full effect of the black satin bustier I had on. "Do you think I could wear this as a shirt?" I asked Meg.

She looked at me with a blank expression, and then furrowed her eyebrows. "Whore," she stated flatly. I flashed her a huge grin and walked back in and shut the door. I started to take off the bustier and put on a lace bra.

"Plus, if Caleb's turned on it would be that much easier to get in his pants," I added, smiling cleverly to myself.

"Alright, that's sick. He's like…old."

"He's twenty-seven! That's _so_ not old!" I shouted as I came back out.

Lisa, a saleswoman I knew, walked around the corner and put her finger to her lips.

I smiled at her. "Sorry."

Lisa accepted my apology with a smile and shook her head as she rounded the corner again, walking away.

"He's eleven years older than you," Megan whispered.

"Yeah…technically," I hedged.

"No, in every way."

"Jared's only twenty-two. I'd _so_ do him."

She looked at me incredulously. "That's like, six years older than you still. Have you never heard of statutory rape laws? It's illegal."

"Yeah, well, coke is illegal too. They do that."

"You're giving your consent on hard drugs?"

"They're fucking rock stars!" I shouted again.

And again Lisa came around the corner looking at me scornfully. "Bree!" she said in a hushed scorn.

"Sorry!" I replied in a sing-song voice and smiled.

I swiveled my head and watched her walk out of the area. I waited until she was back in the main store.

"Ok, this is hot," I said, looking at my reflection and biting on my lip sexily.

"What makes you think you would even get the chance to have sex with them?" ignoring my previous statement.

"Duh," I sighed. I grabbed both my boobs and pushed them up. "I have these."

"So does about half the people there."

Rain on my parade much?

"Yeah, but only a few love the guys enough to get VIP tickets. Which means that I'll be closest to them and—"

"—There will be other people in the VIP section," she interrupted.

"Have you not met me? I'm a fierce bad ass. I _will_ be the closest."

I looked at myself in the mirror again. "Especially when my top comes down and Jared see this," I pointed to my chest again, "and grabs me and we…do it on stage," I spat the last four words fast so she couldn't catch them. "Then I'll _definitely_ be closest."

She laughed at me. "You are such a hoe!" she said and slapped me playfully on my arm.

"Yeah, but I'll be, like, the Hoe Master. How many people do we know can say they did the nasty with a Followill…with _anyone _in a band, for that matter?"

"No one," she said. "But anyway, I'm not going to wait around forever after the show to drive you home."

"I'm becoming a groupie. Didn't you get the memo?" I said, jokingly.

"Ha ha. You're funny," she said flatly. "Well, good luck with that. I'm going to look for actual clothing to wear." She started walking out of the dressing room area.

"I don't need luck. I'm buying this," I called after her.

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**I love this story because it's probably one of the best moments of my life. You know when you get those— when the conversation and just **_**everything**_** works out perfect? This was one of those times. **

**I love me and Meg. :)**


End file.
